I wrote a short scary story because ’tis the season and all for scary ghost stories. It’s somewhat inspired by the ice storm we had recently and a comment a friend mentioned about the sound the icy tree branches made. The story is less than 500 words, so read and enjoy.

Stay warm and stay safe.

Crack…crack…crack…

Catherine rolled over and lifted the comforter to better bundle herself, ignoring the crackling of the tree branches falling from the weight of the ice. She snuck a peak of the clock. It read 3:23. She closed her eyes.

Crack…crack…crack…KA-BOOM!

Catherine bolted up. The room felt darker to her. She looked over at the clock. It was blank.

“Figures,” Catherine mumbled as she plopped back down on the bed.

She tried to steady her breath. Her heart still pounded from what she told herself was only the transformer exploding. She began to wonder how long it would be before the power returned. Then she began to worry how cold it would get. The place she lived in wasn’t well insulated. She lived in what was similar to a studio apartment, but was a small building behind a house her friend owned. She rolled over to her side, closed her eyes, and tried to go back to sleep.

She wished her fiancé was there and not at work at the hospital. She placed a pillow behind her back to make it at least feel like he was there with her, comforting her back to sleep.

Crack – Crack – Crack.

Her face crunched together and she tried to figure out the new crackling sound. It wasn’t the ice, she thought. She knew the sound of the ice. She knew it well. She attentively waited for the sound again.

CRack – CRack – CRack.

Catherine felt a glow of light in the room. She rolled over and looked at her clock. The power was still off, but she saw a reflective blue light on the wall. She sat up and looked around. On the wall facing the bottom of the bed was a glowing blue crack. It was about a foot tall.

CRAck – CRAck – CRAck.

The crack stretched taller and wider, while remaining a crack. Catherine rubbed her eyes. The crack was still there.

CRACk – CRACk – CRACk.

The crack had stretched even further, expanding to the ceiling and floor. The room became frigid. Catherine wrapped the blanket around herself. She slowly approached the glowing crack on the wall. She blinked, trying to get her eyes to adjust to the brightness.

“This is weird,” Catherine said.

With herself wrapped up in the blanket, she poked the crack.

CRACK – CRACK – CRACK.

The crack unfurled, vacuuming her blanket in and dragging her with it. She screamed, but the crack vacuumed the sound too. When Catherine was gone, the crack turned purple and then shrank into nothing.